"..." For a moment, the grey-clad elemental magus watched wordlessly as the armored dragoon seemed to assess the situation, and though it was difficult to discern facial expressions with his helmet in the way, she erred on the assumption that the dragonslayer recognized the assistance, proven by the fact that he proceeded to rush after the Valheimr conjurer now that the coast was clear. With that dealt with, Eve figured she should continue assisting the others, make herself useful beyond just a one-off fire support.

It appeared that she wasn't the only one who decided to go out of their way to help the dragoon and his allies, most likely united by their mutual hatred of these tyrants from beyond the ocean. Good. The eidolon chimera allowed herself a small smirk of approval as she watched no less than three sword-wielding adventurers join the frontlines, then if she included the redheaded mystrel and herself, five, more than doubling the four fighters she saw earlier. Truly, to say Valheimir was public enemy number one wouldn't be an understatement.

Perhaps it was due to her petite, unassuming, and muted colors or simply a result of the soldiers' thinning ranks, or a combination of both, Eve was fortunate enough to not be accosted even by a single foe. No doubt they had bigger fish to worry about, in which the infamous Limbtaker Demon of Osprey was among them, and really, it was exceedingly difficult to ignore someone charging at you wielding various implements of lethal functions. This worked exactly to the Pseudolon's benefit as whenever she found herself questing with allies, the most ideal strategy would be to let her comrades engage their foes directly so she could be free to do what she does best. Her small size and preference for drab apparel weren't originally intended to support this tactic, but she wouldn't look at a gift horse in the mouth.

The enemy was attempting to retreat and regroup, but the sentiments of her allies were clear, there'd be no quarter spared for the Valheimr scum for they would do the same had the situation been reversed. Push them, break their backs; stick together, drive a wedge through them; tear these dogs asunder, carve the way forward in blood and bone; all to achieve a single mutual goal, send as many tyrants as possible to the afterlife where they belong!

Without a moment’s delay, the chimera turned toward the retreating troops, "...fuh." then exhaled softly as she reached out toward the sky with her right arm, her palm open. "O' mighty oceans and raging storms, lend me thy wrath to cleanse these sinners..." As she chanted, a single orb of concentrated mana - dark blue in hue, like the seas amidst a terrible hurricane - spawned at her palm before it soared over to the soldiers, "Tempest Torrent!" Before Eve enunciated, closing said open palm into a fist as the orb shattered, heralding a veritable deluge of magical electrified water to spill from the orb.

The lethal waves wasted no time in washing over the Valheimr ranks, both drowning and jolting those unlucky enough to be caught in their wake, especially those who lagged behind due to injuries or assisting the injured, including the fusiliers covering their retreat. "..." The black magus watched her arcane handiwork with pitiless eyes; there was no triumphant joy, nor sadistic pleasure, merely stoic pragmatism. Just like the Blight, these tyrants were a taint upon Artimis and they must be cleansed before the planet could heal.

As the remaining soldiers made their escape, Eve turned toward the Limbtaker as she had just finished interrogating a hostage, which quickly became a casualty after Izayoi got what she needed from him. Kugane... The artificial eidolon took a moment to weigh her options, she could part ways with these strangers now and continue as she was before, a solitary dragoness fighting her battles alone, or she could... Perhaps it's finally time... Yes, as mighty as Bahamut's blood could be, she was still just one girl, if she wished to topple the empire, she couldn't achieve this goal alone. Besides, if these people could accept the Emperor's Demon herself to stand side-by-side as allies, then by comparison, what was a mere mutant magus?

Solemnly closing her red eyes, Eve made a decision as she pulled her hood back up, then her feet carried her... toward her newfound comrades.



During the group's preparations to set up camp, Eve's primary contribution was lighting the fire pit with a simple cast of pyromantic spell, bypassing all the steps that'd otherwise be required to ignite the pile of wood, then she sat down around it, merely watching the others enjoy their meal, though Eve could still consume food for the pleasure, her eidolonic metabolism meant she instead required ether to survive and right now, she wasn't feeling like "wasting" a pack of rations for herself where it could be given to those who actually needed them. Instead, she took the time to examine each of her companions.

There was the infamous Izayoi the Emperor's Demon of course, but then Eve realized she also recognized another, the dragoon that she assisted earlier. Yes, she heard about him several times during her travels, he's Lord Galahad Wildemont Caradoc, dragonslayer extraordinaire, war hero of the Ospreyan - Edrenian conflict. It felt... poetic for someone like her - an artificial progeny of the King of Dragons - to be assisting an individual whose life's work revolved around slaying her "father"'s people and wearing their scales and hide as armor, but it was a paltry matter compared to the two global threats they were mutually facing.

Speaking of, the infamous samurai requested for the strangers to explain themselves, which was expected all things considered.

The first to take the figurative stage was one known as Esben Mathiassen, an agent of the Garden hailing from the isolationist nation of Skael, and he wasn't alone, the other Sollan, one he called Rudolf, was with him. The two were already in the village even before those soldiers arrived? How... unlucky of them, though it worked out in the end. He also seemed to recognize someone else beside the two famed war heroes, the salmon-haired Sollan woman, and he called her Commander, a fellow Garden operative, Eve assumed? What were the odds?

Up next was the Sollan Esben mentioned just now, Rudolf the monster hunter, hailing from Edren, and he appeared to idolize the dragoon. Eve supposed they were birds of a feather, just that Galahad was more specialized in his craft. Well, good for him then, he could now travel with his role model.

Following the monster hunter was the Mystrel, no, not Izayoi, the smaller, less famous, and much redder one. "..." Her skittish nervousness was palpable even from the very first stuttered word. Ah well, as long as her heart was in the right place.

And now, Eve supposed it was a good time as any, she had to get this over with sooner or later anyway. "I'm..." Grayscale? No, that was what the Valheimrs called her, not her name, "...Eve." The magus introduced herself, raising her voice a bit for the benefit of the group. As for her motive, she decided that for this case, actions would speak a thousand times louder than words. Raising her hands, Eve whisked back her hood.

Illuminated by the flames of the pit, she let the party have a good look, a privilege that she so far reserved for scant few people; revealing a pair of ivory-white draconic horns sprouting from where her Sollan ears should be, the patches of scales visible on her forehead and neck, her albino-pale complexion, and blood-red eyes with pupils a bit too narrow than a Sollan should have. Lastly, her scale-covered tail slithered around onto her lap.

"Valheim did this to me."

It appeared as if she'd arrived just at the tail end of the battle. The other combatants were strong, Valheim's troops fled from them just like that...!

It was kind of exciting, at least as far a Robin was concerned, but things didn't seem so straightforward. Some of the others had already been working together, while others stumbled across the scene just as she had. It was a varied group of people, to say the least. It seemed as if the others who were introducing themselves to begin with were the other newcomers, like herself. At first she'd wanted to go ahead immediately, but after a moment Robin decided to let the others go first.

Not only was it more polite, but all eyes would be on her if she went towards the end. The two men appeared to have come here together. For a moment, she wondered if they were after the same bandits she had been, but apparently that wasn't the case at all.

The Mystral girl was seemingly incredibly shy, and in search of her brother. As far as she knew, given their culture, such situations weren't terribly uncommon. At least insofar as separated siblings went.

Naturally, it only made sense to assist her goal as well. A hero would never turn her back on anyone who was in need, after all.

But also there were some legitimate war heroes here?! She hadn't even realized until now, but Galahad the Dragonslayer?! Not to mention, was that seriously----

Robin took a deep breath.

No, no, now wasn't the time. She had to make a strong impression!

Heroes always made strong impressions, after all.

Rising to her feet with a flourish, Robin bowed deeply with her right arm crossed over her chest.

"I am Robin Fey, Hero and Adventurer! Wherever evil arises, I too shall appear to deliver justice!"

With her bold decoration, Robin straightened and swept her cape to the side.

"I came here in search of bandits reportedly plaguing the people of this region, but it seems they may already have been dealt with," she continued, "However, be it Bandits or Valheim's would-be conquerors, the blade of justice never rests!"

It wasn't just her dramatic manner of speech, nor the way she swept her right hand aside and made her cape flutter once again. No, the fact that Robin had made herself literally sparkle must have only added to the vision. Tiny lights winked in and out of existence around the uniform-clad girl.

Her appearance and manner of speech, however, may have made it difficult to realize she was a girl in the first place, given her androgynous looks.

---

The Valheim remnants fought hard, but somehow this disparate group of strangers and newcomers fought harder. While outnumbered, on an individual level, it was obvious that they each vastly outmatched the regular Valheim soldier. Be it the two men that came out of one of the huts, blades flashing as they waded their way through the enemies. One was light and fast, the other was larger and more deliberate, obviously trained in martial discipline despite their unorthodox fighting style, though the way he moved suggested he might've been better off with a larger weapon- like the one one his back. The mages that came to their aid with fire and ice, though both were small enough that they almost escaped Galahad's notice. To finish routing the enemy, yet another came to their aid, dashing in with all the gusto of cavalry came a well dressed woman with thrusting sword in hand. Galahad himself only needed to dispatch a few more soldiers with his halberd before the Valheim morale finally shattered and the soldiers began their retreat.

Though not one to chase down routing soldiers, Galahad nevertheless kept up the pressure until they were well and truly out of the vicinity, close enough to be nearby Izayoi as she pinned down the last remaining fusilier. He grimaced as Izayoi pulled off the man's helmet. Man. In truth the soldier was closer to a boy. Gerant's face flashed in place of the young soldier's. Galahad stood still for a moment as he watched Izayoi interrogate the Valheim soldier with his brother's face. He frowned, and the grip around the haft of his halberd tightened- perhaps she was a demon after all. At the very least the title of Limbtaker seemed apt. Perhaps he should've done as his father commanded and remove her head- while her back was turned to him was the easiest chance he'd get. Looking away didn't help- he even heard Gerant's voice in place of the Valheim soldier's. He opened his mouth to object, but the samurai finished her quick interrogation before he had the chance. At the very least his helmet hid the look on his face, though his pause was notable before he nodded to her.

"The heart of Valheim operations would be the place to find information." He replied somewhat stiffly, "Kurogane is the logical move."

---

Camp found them with some relative peace from the bloodshed. Galahad seemed to have relaxed more, his helmet sitting at his feet while he ate, glancing at the newcomers with interest. For all of his misgivings about the samurai, she was right. One was fortuitous enough a coincidence, five was well past bordering on suspicious. At the very least enough for him to keep the majority of his armor on until he knew their motives.

The first two were simple enough- one outright admitted he was from Skael's Garden. Incidentally heading the way they were. "Friend of yours?" He offered Elaine with a raised eyebrow. The other man, Rudolf, also looked young. Even moreso than the Valheim soldier from earlier, this one reminded him of Gerant. A bit on the thin side, but seemingly confident enough- if a bit skittish beneath- also like Gerant.

"Just Galahad is fine." he replied to shorter blonde, "I've heard of Sagramore, a few of our initiates go there to learn monster hunting before returning to Midgar. I learned many of my fundamentals there."

In contrast, the mages were considerably smaller, bordering on miniscule. The one that had assisted him was Eve, and looked like no more than a child, if set with some strange accents- mainly the horns and tail. Her explanation was simple, if sad, and all the more reinforced Galahad's theory that the Blight might have been a manufactured occurrence by Valheim. The mage that assisted Arton was a skittish little one, having come to Osprey in search of her brother. An admirable goal, though Galahad was surprised she'd travel alone.

The last to join their number struck him as the gallant type, and while Galahad did not recognize their face, he had heard vague tales about a Robin Fey, not much around Midgar itself, but in and out of some of the smaller townships in Northern Edren, within Midgar's sphere of influence. The sparkles were a nice touch as well, memorable.

"Well met, all of you." Galahad nodded to the newcomers, taking stock of each of them in turn. "I am Galahad Caradoc." he stated simply, omitting his titles again, much like when they first set off.

"I am nominally the leader of this small group." He continued, gestured to those on his side of the fire, "One of a few tasked by King Leonhart to search for the cause of the Blight, and hopefully put an end to it."

He glanced at the others in his party before continuing, gauging their response to the newcomers. "Our search takes us to Valheim controlled Osprey. It seems we're all heading in the same direction for one reason or another.

Mentions:

---

Arton gave a final grateful nod to the red Mystrel before he pushed himself back onto his feet and followed behind Eliane. He was not about to sit behind a wall while his allies risked their lives and he had been hurt worse than this before. Eliane was the one person he had been hesitant about but right now he was intent on protecting her flank, giving her more opportunities to fire. Arton manipulated his shield in quick movements, deflecting bullets that whizzed their way. One shot managed to slip past his defenses but the heavy padding and plate of his pauldron stopped it.

But they weren't alone.

Besides the red Mystrel, there was practically a whole other party that had showed up to their aid. The grim situation quickly turned into a hopeful one as everyone converged on the remaining Valheimians. Arton's sword deflected a sideways swipe and repaid it with a shield bash to the offender's throat. The sound of cracking bone was enough to know he was out of the fight. His movements directly played off Eliane's, covering her back and finishing enemies she threw to the side.

The shouts of his companions urged him forward, gave him the strength to shed whatever fatigue he had. His blade sliced through flesh and pierced weak spots. His shield back by his incredible strength crushed through armor and snapped bones. There was no room to think about anything except his next move.

Arton caught the soldier Eliane kicked with the point of his blade, quickly removing him from it before continuing on. There seemed to be a natural cohesion between their movements. It was rough but the way they were fighting together was very close to how those at the Garden were taught. New voices echoed throughout the battlefield but he could focus on them once they had won. A quick glance around that the situation told him they were on the cusp of victory, thanks to these strangers.

---

Arton was seated to Izayoi's left, idly chewing on some jerky as one by one the strangers began to introduce themselves. He listened closely to Esben introduce his friend bearing a light, cheerful expression at the thought of new allies. A sharp cough escaped his mouth as he nearly choked on a bit of his food. He tapped his chest with his fist to help dislodge anything that might have fallen down the wrong pipe. 'There's more of them now? Just when I thought I could relax...' He thought anxiously to himself. It couldn't be a coincidence, not with what Cyth revealed to him.

Neither of them seemed all too interested in him, not surprising since he intentionally tried to keep a low profile. A small fire sparked in his chest, however, at not being given the same recognition. His attention immediately turned to Miina when she spoke up, eager to shift his mind to something else "Nice to meet ya, Miina. That magic of yours came in real handy." A bright smile accompted his words, hoping to put her somewhat at ease. That extra kick probably saved him from taking anymore serious injuries in the counter-attack.

He leaned slightly forward, arms resting across his legs as Eve spoke up. Arton had not really seen her during the chaotic battle but he had been well aware of her efforts. His smile soon dropped as she lifted the hood that had masked much of her features. Arton's blue eyes went wide at the draconic features, not out of disgust but out of surprise. It was impossible not to stare. His brows furrowed in a pathetic attempt to hide his anger as ideas about how it came to be flashed in his mind. What was the right response to such a thing? "It's a good thing you were around, Eve. I'm sure you saved Gal a few bruises." He let out a long breath, squeezing his right hand as he let the tension go.

It was then that the young, dark-haired man jumped to their feet. The eccentric spin on her words coupled with the higher-pitched voice led Arton to believe Robin couldn't be any older than late teens. Regardless of their age, they had proven themself today. He stifled a small laugh, remembering that he once used the same kind of flourish when he began his journey "It seems fate is on your side as well." He lightly chucked.

Arton waited for Galahad to speak before he would make his own introduction to the newcomers. He spoke with much more authority than Arton think he realized. It at least gave him time to consider what exactly he was going to say because out of everyone here he was the less notable. He stood up confidently "Gods know we could use all the help we could get, especially if that Captain is going to be coming after us." Arton gave a quick wave Name's Arton Yule. Nice to have all of y'all for company this night." With that, he glanced over at the fire which has begun to ever so slightly dim.

He turned to Galahad and gestured to the nearby woods "Fire's getting a bit low, I'll make sure we have enough wood for tonight."It was just an excuse to leave before Rudolf and Esben could ask any kind of questions plus they would need a bit more fuel to last them until morning. Arton turned and moved over to his backpack where he retrieved a handaxe before making his way towards the wooded area.

Eight help her, why was it her fate to be surrounded by, to say it politely, eccentrics? Izayoi furrowed her brow, considering each of them in turn. In order,

A man blatantly claiming to be a Skaellan spy. She knew something of how SEED operated, based on the operatives she'd discovered once before the war. This was not how Skaellans gathered intelligence. Either he was a lunatic, or some sort of incompetent sent out to where he could do the least damage: far away from home. He would bear watching.

The man with the Skallean was just an Edrenian monster hunter. Nothing special, aside from the more-than-competent swordplay she'd witnessed from him out of the corner of her eye.

A fellow Mystrel. On paper, anyhow. Izayoi had never quite felt much of a connection to her own race, having been orphaned so long ago and raised by a Sollan. And based on her memories, her parents hadn't even been representative of the culture she'd occasionally witnessed in her travels in her youth.

"Breathe, girl. I don't quite intend on assaulting you." Izayoi sighed in Miina's direction. Looking for her brother? Well, it made sense, at the very least. If she was a tribal, it stood to reason her brother was of age to be exiled. A nonsensical practice in her own opinion, but there was a reason she considered herself Osprean first.

A pause. She followed the redhead's gaze. Really? Of all the...she was just going to ignore that.

Moving on...now this was curious. It wasn't a surprise to learn that Valheim was experimenting on people. And creating...whatever sort of lizardlike thing this girl was supposed to be. To what end, though? Still, her sympathy did extend to a fellow victim of the occupiers. She offered Eve a brief nod before her gaze slid down to notice her lack of food. Izayoi frowned.

"Eat. You'll need to keep your strength up for the journey ahead. If you're lacking in food, we've stores in the wagon." She chided, seeming as though she wouldn't relent on this point until Eve actually did have dinner.

And lastly...this name was somewhat familiar to her, at least. Shortly before Atsu's fall, word had come through the village from passing travelers of Robin Fey. A local do-gooder, of sorts. They'd failed to mention the youth's utter ostentation. It would be less irritating without the sparkles. Or the Edrenian military dress. The sight still boiled her blood. Still, she pushed her first response down. After all, traveling with the Caradoc boy was still a worse reminder of those times.

Izayoi sighed, glancing in Arton's direction as he ran off. Best to get started on training once he returned. Pah. Her, of all people, providing instruction to a southron. A terrible joke. Still, anything to make her companions more effective against the Valheimr.

She glanced back around the crowd of new faces, her arms folded. Right, she should probably give her own name, shouldn't she?

"I am known as Ranbu no Izayoi. Refer to me as Izayoi, if you must. We believe Valheim to be the most likely source of the Blight, hence why we are here. It would be foolish of us to turn down more swords in our quest, and we've supplies enough for the lot of us. Should you care for ending the Blight or striking out against Valheim, join us."

Miina shrank a little at the reprimand. Here they were, soldiers and heroes and survivors of weird experiments and she was causing trouble just introducing herself... not that being surrounded with all these scary types helped... "Umm... s-sorry... you're w-welcome?"

That last part was directed at Arton, although Miina's eyes only briefly glanced in his direction before drifting over towards Eve. More specifically, Eve's tail.

What did it feel like? Ah, she just wanted to reach out and touch, but that would be rude. It looked kind of dragony, but what did a dragon feel like? Would it be all rough and bumpy like a crocodile or more like some snake or lizard? That wasn't accounting for the size difference, either... so probably smooth and soft? That would be nice. Ahh, her fingers were just itching at the thought.

"P-Pretty..."

If she had to be perfectly honest, Eve still had the expectation that at least half of the group would recoil at her visage, a twisted amalgamation of a Sollan and a dragon, human and monster fused together to beget something even worse than the foulest of blighted dragons. As such, though her face betrayed little, the chimeric eidolon was honestly surprised to find not a single one of them exhibit so much as repulsed aggression; a few were rather surprised, others intrigued, yet none made a scene. "..." She had mixed feelings about this, but the pragmatic side of her rationalized that traveling with the dreaded Demoness and the famed Dragonslayer acclimatized these people to the strange and exotic. It felt... nice, she could get used to this.

Eve decided to... not pull her hood back up as the boisterous folk hero performed his dynamic introduction, relishing in the few rare moments where her unveiled countenance didn't become a beacon of unwanted stares and leers. Instead, all eyes - including Eve's own - were on Robin as he flourished his cape after raising from a gallant bow. She couldn't agree more with the adventurer-hero's motive, yes, those tyrants from beyond the ocean were no better than bandits and cutthroats. Robin's passion for justice was so strong, it manifested in the form of light; the light of hope, Eve deduced.

Following the aspiring hero was the proven one of their kind, the Azure Dragoon himself, Sir Galahad of House Caradoc. He and Izayoi were the two individuals among them that Eve could say were known to everyone else in the group. She wouldn't say it to his face, but before Eve decided to reveal her inhuman traits, she was most wary of Galahad for obvious reasons. So admittedly, him treating her as no different than the other new arrivals was more than proof of his honorable reputation. Though she bore the traits of his nemeses, he wouldn't judge her for it. A natural leader through and through.

And then, the swordsman whose injuries spurred the black magus to join the fray took the limelight. "...un." She replied with a small yet sincere nod as Arton expressed his gratitude for protecting Galahad. She wished she could've done more, such as preventing those scum from injuring the tall swordsman in the first place, but what's done is done. Captain... Ah, it must be the Valheimr clad in that distinctive armor no one else wore, the one who escaped judgment by teleporting away. Rest assured, her time would come sooner or later. Then, while Arton left to get more firewood, Eve ‘topped up’ the campfire with a simple fire spell, intensifying the flames with magical fuel - ether - while the swordsman fetched its mundane counterpart.

Speaking of Ether, it seemed the Demoness of Osprey didn't realize that Eve didn't need food, or to be more specific, food alone would achieve nothing practical for her. In a similar vein to true eidolons, the pseudolon depended on ether instead to continue functioning, and having only cast two spells worth mentioning, she wasn't yet starved for the arcane substance. For barely a second, Eve's lips opened in protest, "..." yet any arguments she had prepared became stillborn in the face of Izayoi's insistence. Sometimes, even good intentions could be misplaced-... nevermind, it wasn't worth jeopardizing the budding camaraderie, she could inform Izayoi about the peculiarities of her existence at a more appropriate time.

A barely-audible sigh left her throat as Eve rather reluctantly grabbed a portion of rations, well, if she must waste this one, she might as well make the best use of it. So fixated was Eve on mentally convincing herself that Miina's stare at her tail went completely unnoticed, let alone her desire to touch it, alas... the world is cruel and unfair indeed.

---

With the unexpected help, it didn’t take much more for them to achieve a complete victory. Unfortunately the skirmish didn’t end in a full Valheimian rout, but between one of the stranger girls that had shown up and her massive tempestuous attack, and Éliane deciding to lob one of her explosive attacks at the retreating forces, they were able to end a good number of them.

That captain Reisa would not be regrouping with anything near the full amount of forces she had started with, and Éliane was happy with that. Although the extent of her grudge did not even touch Izayoi’s, the Valheimians still had a blood debt to pay for the massacre of her countrymen in the castle. A convenient, easy target to beat up on was appealing for Éliane’s battle lust too…

But now that the battle was over, who were these unexpected comrades in arms?

Éliane was a bit surprised and a little wary that they had all decided to stick around afterwards at their campfire. The ensuing almost-interrogations and introductions were insightful, at least. Of them all, she was of course most interested in her fellow countryman. She was always delighted to meet fellow countrymen outside their borders, if they weren’t exiles, at least.

She briefly puzzled over his introduction. It really wasn’t the introduction of a SEED member… but the last name, she recognized. She had her finger on the pulse of Solitude’s high society. The heir of the Cadon Barony was supposed to be somewhat eccentric man. She gave him some side-eye for the way he introduced himself, but she didn’t dismiss it, either.

It didn’t take long for him to address her, and she nodded with a smile of her own. “Yes. You’re the son of Mathias Felixssen, I presume? I’m thankful for more eyes from home. Too many of have already been lost investigating this curse,” she replied sadly.

The others made their introductions, and she made hers, in turn. It was still odd, but nobody struck her as immediately suspicious, either. Rudolf was an Edrenian, so she didn’t have much beyond her usual impressions of them. Hunting monsters was cool, though! She wanted to hear some of the stories he could tell about his hunts.

Miina was… so cute! But kind of a weird Mystral in how she flustered so easily. She was the opposite of Izayoi, which sent Éliane in a brief fit of amusement. Especially when she tracked her eyes towards what the very red girl had been affixed on for her entire stammering session.

Eve was just a mystery. Her battle magic was awesome, though. Éliane respected her grudge towards the Valheimans, but between her foreign looks and the lack of forthcoming information, she was the one the commander was the most suspicious of.

Robin… well, Éliane loved her style! Wait, was Robin a boy or a girl? She wasn’t actually sure, but she was going to lean girl, for now. The sparkles were a nice touch, if a bit over the top… if anything, Robin reminded Éliane of herself when she was younger…

She decided if they were going to join in their quest, then she agreed with Izayoi. They would be quite welcome reinforcements.

“Well, most of you seem like good fellows,” she happily concluded. “I’d be glad to have you all join if you would.”

An extra thought occurred to her. “You all have your own chocobos, right…?”

---

The moment Arton returned from gathering firewood, Izayoi waited for him to stoke the fire before heading off to the wagon. She brushed Goug aside with a brief nod before retrieving two bundles from their supplies.

”Come.” She said in a commanding tone to Arton as she returned to camp, gesturing for him to follow. They went a ways away, though still in view of the fire. Izayoi tossed him the first of the bundles before unwrapping her own. When he opened his, it would reveal a wooden sword, crafted to the length and width of his own.

Of course, the moment Arton had the wooden longsword in hand, Izayoi charged, brandishing her bokken. She delivered two strikes, both aimed toward his chest. A stinging reminder to be vigilant.

Two stacks of cut logs rested on Arton’s shoulders as he made his way back to camp and set them down into a pile. It was more than enough to get them through the night. He immediately tossed a couple pieces onto the roaring fire, stoking it with a small branch he had found. His mind was drifting to thoughts of what he should put together for breakfast when he heard his name called. Arton nodded though unsure what she needed him for “Right behind ya.”

Arton caught the bundle with both hands and looked up curiously at Izayoi before he began to unravel it. To his surprise, there was a wooden replica of his sword inside. To his greater surprise, It was barely in his hands before the first strike struck his chest. Dull pain spread around the impact as he scrambled to parry the second one, making it only a partial success.

He took a step back to create some distance, pointing the wooden swords towards Izayoi “I take it that was my first lesson?” It was time to see what he signed up for.

”Focus!”

Izayoi didn’t let up, already closing the distance that Arton had made between himself and her. She’d beat the lesson into him until he’d internalized it. Just as had been done with her long ago.

”If you’ve time to posture, you’ve time to seize the initiative!” She snarled, raising her bokken with only one hand to bring it crashing down towards his shoulder.

His eyes tried to track her movement and anticipate her next attack, moving a fraction too slow to prevent her next attack. Wood cracked against solid muscle and Arton winced slightly. Any trace of his jovial expression dropped and determination flashed in his eyes.

The Sollan lunged forwards and imitated the opening two strikes Izayoi had done against him, figuring striking from above would leave an opening long enough. They were quick but it was clear Arton had rarely ever had to face an opponent of equal or greater ability.

Frankly, Izayoi wasn’t sure whether it spoke more to Arton’s ability or her deterioration that she’d actually had to stop and parry the blows. The Mystrel grit her teeth, Arton’s brute strength forcing her back more than she’d like.

Her foot shot up in a kick towards his knee in order to unbalance him, and Izayoi followed up by ramming her wooden sword hilt-first straight at Arton’s nose.

”A competent warrior uses all that they have at their disposal.” She lectured as she struck, her tone severe.

Arton restrained himself from smirking as he managed to gain some ground. He brought back the sword and was preparing another strike when Izayoi’s kick connected with his knee. The speed and force of the strike caused him to wobble and lower his head right into the hilt of her weapon.

He let out a small grunt as he stumbled backwards a couple steps “Noted.” His sword was lifted into a guarded stance as he charged.

A heavy swing came from above, his left hand separating from the grip as it came down. The fingers curled into a fist as it tucked into his arm, preparing to shoot forward towards her chest alongside the blade.

Izayoi parried the sword in time, but Arton’s punch knocked her back, causing her to grit her teeth and push past the pain as she pulled herself up.

”Better. Now be faster.” She surged forward, striking at a swifter pace from here on out.

___

Back and forth they went, for nigh on an hour. By the time Izayoi called for both of them to lower her blades, both of them at least winded, Arton had landed at least a few blows on her. Of course, she’d managed far more in return, but the fact that it had gotten to this point was telling in the first place.

”We will resume nightly if we can. At least once every other day if we cannot, based on unforeseen circumstances. You are…not incompetent.” She nodded begrudgingly. ”Whomever taught you did an adequate job. Now, tell me what you believe you lack, based upon this bout.”

Arton wiped a trickle of blood from his lip with the back of his hand, his chest heaving with deep breaths. Each bruise and welt on his body was a lesson he planned on taking to heart. A large smile creased his lips at what he considered high praise though it lost some luster at her request ”I was kinda hoping you would tell me…” He laughs nervously before sitting on a fallen log, knowing that wouldn’t cut it.

”I lack…decisiveness, I guess I should call it.” Too often his mind wanders to other thoughts than being present in the fight in front of him. The severity and ferocity in which Izayoi took down her opponents, he wanted to emulate that.

A nod. At least he already knew what he erred in. Fortunate that Arton wasn’t an idiot, else this would be much more difficult.

”Indeed. Mindset influences the flow of combat as much as physical conditioning does. Abandon all considerations aside from the fight. You are a hunter. Your foe: your prey. At least, that is how I was taught. When you have the initiative, capitalize up on it. When you do not, do everything in your power to seize it. Combat is won by whom controls the flow of battle more.”

Izayoi remained standing, reaching for a waterskin and taking a long pull before continuing.

”You are, without a doubt, more physically well-conditioned than I am at this moment. I abandoned the sword for five years, after all. Yet I still controlled the pace of the duel. Consider your foe as something that must be felled. Consider the consequences should you fail. A warrior is a weapon, and your mind must be as honed for violence as your body.”

”Hunter. Prey…” He repeated under his breath as he absorbed the insight. Izayoi's words in the context of their fight gave him a fair understanding of what she meant. Arton needed to be a predator on the battlefield and seek every advantage he could.

He looked directly up at her as his lesson continued. Despite his defeat, this session had provided him with some validation. Arton was especially hard on himself and he sometimes forgot that he was indeed a capable warrior. It was this lingering doubt that seemed to hold him back and if he wanted to be better he’d have to heed Izayoi’s wisdom. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms in front of him before rising to his feet ”I look forward to next time, this was as great as I expected.” His gaze drifted to the dim light of the campfire in the distance ”Should we return to the others? I’m kinda beat.” He chuckled.

___

Arton returned to the warmth of the campfire walking a little stiff and with noticeable bruises illuminated by the fire-light. He gingerly lowered himself onto the ground where he took a long drink of water. There was no doubt in his mind as he rolled out his sleeping mat that he would have the best sleep he's gotten in awhile. Someone else would have to take the first watch because there was little chance he would stay awake much longer.

As the introductions spiralled 'round the campfire, the swordsman contented himself with leaning back and, barring common pleasantries, holding his cards close to the chest. He'd have plenty of time to get to know everyone, no need to think or act too quickly even in the face of promising first impressions. To speak on them: One hell of a motley crew that had assembled (loosely, with regard to some) beneath the banner of the King's Undertaking. More Skaellers, more folk from Edren, even a draconic-featured mage and skittish Mystrel, searching for a disappeared brother, had been swept up in the fray. It was enough to make him consider relaxing his guard a hair... almost.

Within the main party, impossible to ignore even if he wasn't trying to get a read on what they thought of all his fellow newcomers, the brief flash of displeasure at Robin's introduction, forced down by discipline in short order. He'd seen the sharpness creep behind the eyes. He'd not missed the offending detail either— while there were certain elements that didn't completely line up with Edrenian Dress Standards (the epaulettes were a little wide, the double-breasting of the coat was mirrored, the type of things that theatrics purposefully left out for differentiation's sake) there was no doubting she wore the national Red and Black, more than close enough to officer-style.

Yeah. That moment confirmed it. As far as everyone here was concerned, he was swordsman, monster hunter, blade at their side. All he needed to be, all they needed from him. Anyone before that moment wasn't theirs to know.

"No kidding? Small world, then. I've probably run into a few of your guys." he replied in the moment to Galahad, mentally checking off a few boxes in his head he'd drawn up in the past five years about some spearmen he'd come to befriend. "If you'll all have us, I'd be glad to lend my strength."

Should that be all that was asked of him. The Blight itself was fearful enough, even in a group as well-stocked with warriors as this. He didn't need old nightmares rising from within the ranks of those he trusted with his sleeping back.

---

Rudolf, as things wound down, had excused himself for a spell in turn, as though drawn by the telltale sounds of wood striking wood from the sparing match between Arton Yule and Izayoi. He was still on his first night as one of their number, of course, and didn't want to overstep by directly watching— you never knew if some measure of suspicion might be aroused by intently reading sword movement with a fighter's gaze, after all.

Instead, he cut an angle from their path, landing in his own small corner of the township's outskirts, far enough that voices were out of earshot but impacts and tempo... weren't. He did his best work, after all, around other trainees. Always had.

As their hour-long lessons dragged on, uninterrupted by brand new blondeheaded interlopers, Rudi lifted the hulking blade at his back with a hand, breathed deeply, and settled into his stance. Hopefully the cracking of traded blows would draw more attention than a single man cutting air, however crisply— but he couldn't help needing it. Training calmed the nerves, and the nerves had been alight for three days straight.

So he went to work, his large blade tearing into taunting shadows with balance and nimbleness that belied its size, to say nothing of his own.

A few days' travel through the plains of Aitsuragi placed the party on the edge of a nameless village, one more day away from Kugane proper. Sundown was mere hours away, though, and it would have been folly to push on to simply camp out in the fields when an inn with hot food and a roof over their heads awaited them here. Or at least, that had been the assumption until they actually beheld the hamlet.

About the only thing that could be said to be flourishing within the village were the rice fields. Crops were growing, certainly. But even from a distance, anyone looking closely could see the malnourished frames of the farmers, their ragged clothing, and the various buildings in town being in a state of shabby disrepair. Evidently, something had done a number on this place.

"What you see before you is a result of the occupiers' ruinous taxation." Izayoi supplied, her eyes blazing with anger as she beheld the absolute state of the people. "The Valheimr bleed these villages dry of both grain and coin to enrich themselves, and withhold protection from the Blight for those who refuse to pay. That is, if they do not simply punish the peasantry by making examples of them."

As they approached the village borders, the more perceptive members of the party could feel a pair of eyes on them. Their owner could be found sitting high on a tree branch leisurely swinging their feet back and forth. It was a female Viera with short, blonde hair and vibrant lavender-colored eyes. She wore a suit of high-quality leather armor that was reinforced with a breastplate, slim shoulder guards, and bracers. A red-colored wood short bow with an accompanying quiver was attached to her back and a pair of fierce-looking daggers hung around her hips.

A half-smirk appeared on her pinkish lips as the first of the party approached, her eyes scanning through them all but predominantly lingering on Izayoi multiple times. "The report wasn't kidding." The viera leaned forward and flipped frontwards onto the ground effortlessly, her right hand resting on her hip while the other lay loosely against her side "We were hoping you'd come to Osprey but not make so much of...an entrance." Her merry demeanor cracked for a moment once her eyes set on first Galahad, then Rudolf and Robin, icy glares shooting towards the three of them before her attention returned to Izayoi.

For her part, Izayoi simply fixed the interloper with a flat stare. She knew her kind, of course. How could she not, having made extensive use of them throughout the war? The viera's words didn't help in that regard.

"Shinobi." The Mystrel rested her off-hand on the hilt of her sword, not quite hostile yet but not off her guard either. "And who would 'we' be, exactly? Name whom you serve." There was no point in asking for this woman's name. They wouldn't get a real answer, much less a clan to identify her as. And that was assuming this wasn't simply a freelancer, either.

"Someone who wishes to share a cup of bergamot tea with an old friend." Came an easy, practiced reply, and Izayoi couldn't help her eyes from widening slightly. Impossible. Ciradyl was a performer, not someone who hired ninjas to serve her.

"Absurd. Your deception ought to do better than to rely upon public meetings over half a decade old." Izayoi spat, now looking rather offended. "Anyone who'd kept half an eye upon our public appearances could claim to serve Ciradyl with that."

"And you've got little choice but to rely on me, no matter what." The viera replied, her easy smile staying on her face. "That is, unless you can somehow sneak past the city guards with nine people, four chocobos, a moogle, and a wagon. The city's changed since last you were there, you know." Her smile turned wan as she continued. "Valheim practically has it locked down. Nobody gets in or out without their express approval. But my mistress has made arrangements. All you need do is to follow along."

Izayoi glowered at the viera ninja for a moment before turning to Galahad.

"She claims to serve an old friend of mine. I do not believe her. However, if she speaks truly regarding Kugane, we may not have a choice regardless. I cannot say, as I've not approached within the time I've been active once more. Your decision?"

---

The newcomers had integrated into their group as smoothly as they could've hoped. They had yet to see combat together since their introduction, but at the very least no one had seemed to try to bite each other's heads off yet. In fact, for the most part it seemed as though everyone was getting along well enough. There hadn't been enough time to get to know everybody particularly well, but enough small talk and observations on the road and Galahad had a decent enough idea of everybody's general strengths. The journey was long, and there'd be plenty of time to learn about them on an individual level as time moved forward.

Perhaps wisely, Galahad had thrown a heavy traveling cloak over his more vibrant armor- better to not stand out when traveling through unknown territory, his helmet sat in a sack by his saddle, and his halberd was also wrapped in heavy leathers and cloths. It was hard to hide the fact that he was armed, but at the very least he didn't look like an Edreni Dragoon deep in Osprean land.

Osprey itself was in a sorry state, the village they had come upon could hardly be called a village. If anything it appeared more like a plantation, from the healthy state of the crops, and the opposite in its people. If Izayoi's anger was true, it seemed like this was the new norm of this land.

"How terrible." Galahad said softly, viewing the sad sight before them. With Osprey under its grip it was only natural that the neighboring land of Edren was next- if their attempted assassination of the king was anything to go by. "The sooner we cut the head off the snake, the better."

Galahad had noticed the Viera before she spoke, also noting the icy crack on her visage when seeing him- He wasn't surprised the Edreni weren't particularly welcome in these parts, though he didn't quite understand the exchange with Izayoi. It seemed that they were noticed not long after crossing the border though. A group their size wasn't easy to mask, and a party of disparate cultures and people was easy to notice, even if he wished otherwise.

"She's not wrong. Our group is hardly inconspicuous." Galahad sighed. "If we're to find information on the Blight and disrupt the Valheim leadership, we'll not do it by throwing ourselves headfirst at Kugane's walls. Trust her or not, we need to get into Kugane, and discreetly at that."

Galahad glanced back at the party, before returning Izayoi's gaze with a shrug. "We're still a night and day away from Kugane, so we needn't commit wholly just yet. But, unless any of our Garden friends knows a way to sneak an armed group into a foreign city undetected, I say we take the offered invitation. And if it is a trap, you'll get to cut your way through an entire city's worth of Valheim soldiers. Sounds like a win-win."

"You'd have to think the discipline and regimentation we've seen already extends to their watch rotations and whatever net their sentries cast. Same with patrols on the interior." Rudolf ventured in undertone, from within and more towards the amassed group behind as the veterans up front led deliberations. The Viera Ninja's doublespeak with Izayoi meant nothing so far, not to him, but her plainer words raised a fair point— even accounting for expertise among their ranks (most of which being Esben), nine was already a pretty sizeable cohort to try and conduct covert entry with. And that wasn't even getting into obstacles like a third of them (his was lighter than the big guys, but still worth mentioning) having to work around varying kinds of armor. Noise, movement, balance, temperature, all concerns."It's the capital of an occupied state that they're grinding to the bone. They're going to have triple-checked the city top to bottom for potential points of entry where an insurgent group could pop out from."

If they didn't, they were stupid. And there was no way you held Kugane this long by being stupid, even given the fact that they had still been very much licking their wounds from the war five years ago. The war itself had proven that much easily.

"If we have a path of less resistance to at least get inside, may as well not leave things to chance. We'd be 'supposed to be there', for whatever that'd be worth."

Traveling with companions again was a welcomed change of pace, it had been a while and better yet, these particular comrades mutually shared a goal that'd be deemed lofty by most adventurers; ushering world peace by ending the Blight and Valheim. Bahamut willing, this quest would be her last, whether due to success or death, one thing for sure, until her last dying breath, her vow would remain.

It took a few days of steady travel, but eventually, the group of nine adventurers, four chocobos, one moogle, and their wagon entered a rather... destitute village, which juxtaposed oddly with the fertile fields surrounding it. Eve already came up with a strong hypothesis for the cause before Izayoi confirmed it as fact, it was the empire's doing, of course it was, tyrants oppressing innocent people was as certain as the sun rising every morning.

"..." The Pseudolon was justifiably enraged, and to say that she didn't have a passing thought of simply torching every single Valheimr they'd encounter from this point onward would be a lie, but... no, she knew better, this wasn't a war they could win by being reckless. Such a "tactic" belonged to monsters and no matter how much the ignorant masses believed her to be, she's better than that. Fortunately, they hadn't encountered any Valheimr yet so far... or so she thought.

"...?" Eve frowned in silent suspicion as her red eyes gazed up from under her hood at the leather-clad Viera spying at them from a tree branch. She was armed and judging from her movements, she was more trained scout and less housecat stuck on a tree. Eve's fingers twitched briefly, a barely perceptible gesture from the outside, but internally, her Eidolic ether circuits were already preparing to conjure a fireball to force the bunny down from her tree, but no... what was that again about being better than wild beasts?

Still, her apprehension remained even as the Viera stopped beating around the bush and practically admitted that she was spying on them by introducing herself. She and Izayoi know each other? Twas' unsurprising in hindsight, well, if they were former comrades in the war then... On second thought... no, it's a one-sided relationship. Alas, the trappings of being infamous.

Having naught a connection with this shinobi of a Viera, Eve was content to keep in the background. If the rabbit-eared kunoichi already glared with such enmity toward their Edrenian comrades, the chimera preferred that she remained oblivious to the artificial eidolon technically hailing from Valheim, and a black mage at that. The last thing Eve wanted was sabotaging the group's chances at infiltrating Kugane.

The shinobi offered an accord, trust her and she'd lead them to this 'old friend' of Izayoi's, something that the Blade Demoness wasn't keen on taking, but the Viera drove a hard bargain, enough to make Izayoi entertain the idea with Galahad first. Personally, Eve's sentiments were aligned with the Mystrel Samurai, the Viera had nothing to prove herself beyond a flimsy "Trust me, folks" 'assurance', however, she's also curious about what everyone else thought regarding the matter.

Galahad brought an excellent suggestion, yes, Esben was a Garden operative, they were supposed to be Skael's elite espionage agents, the best of the best at their craft, with such a skillset, why should they risk themselves associating with an outsider? Though to be fair, Esben only beat the Shinobi by a few days, but, he had risked life and limb to vanquish those Valheimr scum together.

The platinum-haired weaponmaster chimed in, providing the opinion that they shouldn't simply dismiss the unnamed Viera's offer, considering the chokehold Valheim would undoubtedly have around Osprey's capital, trusting her might just be worth the risk.

"I don't trust her either, at least not without a stronger guarantee than her claim of working for Izayoi's associate," Eve quipped in a low voice - which was practically her default manner of speech anyway - before she turned her gaze at Esben specifically, "So, Esben, can you do her one better?"

---

Before Éliane could reply, the others followed suit with their own introductions. Esben's gaze shifted slightly, following each in turn. Rudolf's came as a matter of course after Esben had already partially introduced him; nothing particularly new was said on that front, barring the sudden recognition of Duke Caradoc's son. He raised an eyebrow at the way Rudolf addressed the man, but didn't say anything about it. Miina Malina the Mumbling Mystrel came next, though whether it was entirely from nervousness around the group, nervousness around the one to accost them in particular, or the features of that one which drew her eyes, he wasn't willing to guess yet.

Best to keep that brother in mind, though.

The other small girl introduced herself, revealing that she wasn't entirely human in the process, and with a grudge against Valheim to match the oddity of her looks. Then, the boyish girl in her military jacket declared herself with a husky voice and magical sparkles in the air. No doubt now that she had a penchant for theatrics—far be it from Esben to interfere if she wanted to play the part of the daring, duplicitous lady-at-arms, so long as it didn't risk otherwise-easily-avoidable problems.

Galahad and Izayoi he knew by reputation; Arton he'd been waiting for after hearing the man nearly choke after his own introduction, though he seemed to have recovered fairly quickly—only to immediately leave as soon as he had the chance. His eyes followed the man's retreating form, a curious wonder starting to rise to the front of his mind—

—His eyes shifted away again, however, at the barest twitch of fingers in his peripheral vision. Back to Miina.

_{"P-pretty..."}

He smirked, following where the mumbling Mystrel's gaze had landed next. It was nearly entertaining enough for him to miss Éliane's response; while he had as much clue as to what she'd come out for as she had of him, he hadn't expected her to come alone. That the confirmation came with such obvious bad news neither surprising nor entirely welcome.

"Well. I trust you've already written home for them."

Given the manner of his and Rudolf's arrival to the group, he didn't feel it necessary whatsoever to answer the question about chocobos.

---

The travel passed uneventfully after their introductions; Esben kept to himself for most of it, keen more to watch and learn the others as he was to teach them about himself for the moment. Everything important he had to share had already been covered, anyways; best to let those with louder personalities carve out their places in the new group while he determined where his could fit, and otherwise, travel in relaxed contentment. As best as he could before they came across the farmlands surrounding the nearby village, at least.

While the peasantry had never enjoyed the greatest of lives before, they at least still maintained some level of respect and due in most places; under Valheim's occupation, however, these farmers they passed appeared to have been reduced to nearly a caricature of serfdom. In the face of that and the rapidly-approaching feeling that he was being watched, he almost expected to be accosted more for coin than for anything else; one hand rested near a dagger, as they came up to the loftily-seated Viera, though with a practice nonchalantness he kept his eyes scanning their surroundings, never lingering long enough to make it obvious he knew where she was.

Not that the caution seemed entirely necessary, as she shortly dropped to speak with them. He found Eve next to him within moments, requesting his own input on the situation...at which he gave a small smirk.

"You just want to see me at work that badly, do you?"

Could it be done? Undoubtedly, it could, though whether or not by him it was too early to say. The smirk dropped, a small shrug making up where his expression went blank.

"My knowledge on their occupation of Kugane could easily be out of date. It would depend on their patrols, what the gaps in them were, where we could quickly find to hide. Things would need scouted out ahead of time, and given that the good captain just retreated there less than a week ago—and that there are already reports of at least a few of us circulating the area—I doubt we have time to spend leaving the group waiting outside the city while those of us with the capability play thieves in the night. People are hard to move as quickly as necessary."

Thus it always went—weapons were easier to smuggle than bodies. Resistances were easier to build out of those inside the walls; arm them and you could nearly point them in all directions. They could stand to be larger, assuming they were quiet enough in the early stages. Scouts and assassins rarely traveled in such large groups as theirs, as the difficulty for their job only increased exponentially with each extra body added to the plan, and distractions and diversions could easily cause more harm than good.

He looked back to the Viera with a heavy-lidded stare. It was entirely too public for this sort of thing, he felt, even with the village reduced to a disadvantaged backwater. But at least she spoke well, and Izayoi's reaction was enough of a reply to cement his own thoughts on the matter.

"Her code's too obvious to be a complete fabrication. You said it yourself—she ought have had better to base it on if it was entirely a deception. Humor her for now—bury her if anything stops making sense. We can afford to waste time with her less than we can afford that spent to find our own ingress."

---

Arton's mind wandered to the countless villages he had helped over the years from monster, bandits, and later on the Blight. The edges of his lips and brow twinged barely concealing his anger at their circumstances. Despicable. He breathed the word out under his breath. This, more than anything, tilted his feelings towards Valheim and their forces. Arton felt a sliver of Izayoi's fury enter his heart with every sullen face they passed "I agree." He nearly said through his teeth at Galahad's comment.

His attention was too focused on the state of the villagers that he barely spotted the Viera watching them before she spoke, more so reacting to his companions than actually realizing she was there. It startled him slightly and the looks she was giving towards some of their party, Galahad in particular, was enough for him to hover his hand over his sword's hilt waiting for either Izayoi's or Galahad's direction. The muscles in his body momentarily tensed but slowly eased up as the Viera and Izayoi began to talk.

There was something about her smile that felt like it was a smokescreen for her true intentions. It didn't seem fake per se, but there was something clearly hidden underneath "I can't imagine a group like ours would go undetected for long even if we did get in." He nodded towards Rudolf. Arton wasn't even sure who this 'old friend' of Izayoi's could even be. His imagination turned towards some kind of powerful warlord or ninja master though he couldn't exactly picture either.



She shifted her weight onto her right leg, hands resting on her hips as she patiently let the misfit group talk amongst themselves. It would have been suspicious if Izayoi simply believed her from the start, if what her mistress said about her was true. The idea, however, of bringing Edrenians into the heart of Osprey make her sick to her stomach. Her personal feelings couldn't be allowed to affect the mission so she did her best to suppress them. She closed her eyes and her chest rose as she took a deep breath.

"A clever one, aren't you?" She lightly giggled "It seems the Garden hasn't slacked on their training." This was sure to make their infiltration easier if they decided to listen, but she would definitely be keeping an eye on Esben. Her eyes glanced to their flanks, ears twitching in response to faint, minute sounds in the distance and the low murmur of curious voices "Why don't we discuss this more on the road? There is still a ways to go."

Could you please be a bit less off-the-cuff when talking about 'burying' this lady? She already hates a third of us, I still think she wants to kill me in particular! he attempted to beam his words into Esben's messed-up brain through raw force of will beneath his placid mask. Of course the frigid cuts in her gaze over the recognizably Edreni complement within their party hadn't gone unnoticed— He thought poor Robin was gonna freeze over entirely, and had just been playing it cool himself.

He tugged at the high collar masking his face from dust and wind absently, as his eyes flickered between whichever of the assembled group and their envoy from this would-be benefactor. His gear had covered him fairly well all told— that much was the idea. Between the hat, collar, and cloak, that was surely enough to blend in behind the eyes as "some anonymous mercenary", right? He wasn't wearing any crests, his face was fairly obscured, and platinum blondes were rare but you could find them from any one of the five nations at play here. He clicked his tongue and grimaced beneath the fabric as her shift in weight was noted in his head, and a second stock was taken of her armaments. Shortbow. Quiver. Paired daggers. Either all the way in or all the way out, not one to look for protracted exchanges. Explained her attire, light and naturally-aspirated. Explained why she was up here approaching nine as one with an invitation and not a challenge. Whatever she was hiding was behind that smile, not on her person.

He glanced back to Esben. Better assume one or two more hidden somewhere. Could probably rule out the whole chest area.

He should have played it cooler and kept his mouth shut, he concluded momentarily. It had to be his voice that had earned him the "get out of my sight, you disgusting invader" look, so similar to the stony visages of his upbringing. He'd have been roasted by the sun overhead if he wasn't sufficiently covered— of that he was sure. But he couldn't, or hadn't yet thought to, hide his accent. The moment he spoke he'd given himself away.

Her ears twitched, reading sound he couldn't pick up. Maybe a shift in weight, or a conversation a street down... but if that was the case, his goose was cooked from the word "go". She'd pinged their voices before any of them had even felt her eyes on their number. Couldn't be helped in that case but... damn. Cold comfort. At least Miina was gonna be having a grand old time.

"We're going that way regardless. And making a scene here." he nodded, nothing left to do but live with the situation as it stood. His gaze momentarily floated from the Viera to Izayoi. "Push comes to shove, nearly a full day out is plenty of room to find a moment where the quicker ones could get some scouting done ahead of the main if we really wanted to freeball it. 'Trust but verify' and all that."

Looking at the fields in curiosity was... strange. Well, one they were just unusual to her, having grown up in a forest and all. Her detour off through Edren hadn't often taken her through cultivated fields, and the ones that she had passed by tended to be different. To see this much of a single food in one place... well, hopefully it was meant to be food, and they didn't just have an odd fixation with surrounding their village with one sort of grass? That would be bad. Though it would explain why everyone looked so starved, so maybe--

Ah, it was the invaders? So it was meant to be food, then. Why were they starving the populace? Starving people were worse at doing... well, anything, right? So they'd get more overall if they taxed less and didn't risk everyone starving to death.

Maybe the Valheimr knew something about farming that she didn't? That was also quite likely.

Before they entered the village, they were accosted by a Viera in a tree. That alone drew attention--so this one knew the other Mystral, who seemed to be well known from what everyone had said? Or knew someone that knew her? Huh, what were the odds of that. Even as everyone else started to voice their doubts or opinions on whether she was honest, Miina kept quiet. It wasn't as if she knew much about infiltration or verifying strange shady people, so she couldn't really say. Sure, she dressed a bit blatantly, but would anyone really be looking for that...? And she could just change clothes.

But her last attempt at making friends had lead to working with some rather unsavoury people. So she'd just keep quiet. And keep watching the Viera.

Did being a Viera make them bouncier?

The party continued walking as they deliberated, led on by the so-far nameless shinobi. Izayoi frowned as she listened to Galahad's response, followed by other opinions, as well as Eve and Esben plotting to circumvent the matter entirely. Eventually, she just grumbled briefly to herself before nodding back towards Galahad, Rudolf, Esben, and Arton.

"Fair points. We follow your lead, Caradoc." She admitted begrudgingly as they were led to what appeared to be the local inn. Unlike most buildings within town, it remained at least somewhat well-maintained. The conclusion wasn't too hard to reach.

"I take it this is where any Valheimr officials and their escorts stay when they stop in town?" Izayoi received a nod from the viera at that, and she grunted in derision. "Typical." Of course the occupiers only bothered to contribute to upkeep on the sole building in the village they actually used.

The conversation continued as they were led to a table inside the inn, Izayoi stepping away to discuss rooms and payment with the proprietor.